Writing

In dirt roads 

the way you bounce in your seat 

and smile at the mud 

coated tires 

coated legs 

coated boots 

while everyone complains that it's not 

summer. 

Roses are red

Violets are blue

We’ve known each other 

Since we’ve been in school

We were inseparable 

Through elementary and high

cut the cauliflower, as they cut you

wash the cauliflower, when you wash away your sorrow

sprinkle pepper

sprinkle salt 

sprinkle cheese

sprinkle love & home, until it's enough

In the year 3050, the terrifying disease called Covid19 wasn’t something of the past. It was still the future, the present. Efforts to alleviate the virus hadn’t worked at all. 

—---------------------------------------------------

“Detective Holm.” 

“Sergeant.” Shirley greeted him with her usual monotone voice. 

Sergeant Greg didn’t appreciate over-energetic beings; Shirley saw someone getting fired for so much as laughing. 

The scribe set down his quill, noticing that the feather was translucent. In the Between, quills changed colors depending on the amount of ink left in the writing utensil. The quill was almost unusable, when it turned that color.